How much should he tell? Finally, he began, just as Lyasa opened her mouth to prompt him once more. “You know that I was supposed to be Sverlik’s assistant and then do something, and that it was a test.”
“You told me that in Gallos.”
“What I didn’t tell you was that the task was to kill the prefect of Gallos.”
“You? Why you?”
“I don’t know. I can guess, but I don’t know.”
Lyasa turned her head to Leyladin. Leyladin smiled briefly at Cerryl.
“You did it, of course.” Lyasa’s voice was matter-of-fact.
“The prefect had Sverlik killed, and a detachment of our lancers, and you were there when he sent an entire force against us.”
“I heard about that,” Leyladin said quietly.
Bealtur stopped dead in the archway to the commons, on his face an expression of alarm and consternation.
“I suppose you heard I had left,” Cerryl called to the goateed student. “That was just a story to cover the task Jeslek set for me.” He offered a broad smile.
Bealtur bobbed his head. “I am glad to see you have returned.”
“So am I. The last eight-days have been hard.” Cerryl smothered a grin as he glanced at Lyasa.
“Ah. .”
“Don’t worry, Bealtur. I won’t be too much of a problem.” Cerryl grinned.
Bealtur bobbed his head, then turned.
“No,” said Lyasa. “They’ll have to make you a full mage.”
“That’s what I’m hoping for,” Cerryl admitted, deciding that he should not reveal too much.
“That’s all?” asked Lyasa. “You just killed the prefect and walked away?”
Cerryl sighed. “No. I sneaked in and out of Fenard. I ran out of coins. Most of the Gallosian guards were after me.” His stomach twinged at the exaggeration, and he added, “Those around the palace, anyway. The stable folk complained that I let the horse get too thin, and Jeslek wanted to say that the test wasn’t enough because. . just because.”
Lyasa nodded. “He doesn’t like you.”
“He doesn’t like anyone who doesn’t think he’s really the High Wizard,” suggested Leyladin, “and that’s most of the students and mages.”
Lyasa stood. “I have to meet with Esaak. He’s not pleased with my mathematicks. Again.”
“Good luck,” said Cerryl. “He was never pleased with mine, either. He still isn’t.”
“Lucky you.” The black-haired student walked away.
From across the table, Leyladin looked directly at Cerryl.
Cerryl took a deep breath. “It has been a long few eight-days. Very long.” His eyes went to Leyladin’s, and he just looked into their depths for a time.
“You’ve learned a great deal,” Leyladin said quietly. One hand reached across the table and covered his. “I wasn’t sure you could. Or that you’d want to.”
“I had some encouragement. I can’t tell you how much encouragement.” He grinned, then glanced down. His trousers were filthy, and his boots needed work. He didn’t even want to think about how he looked. “I need to clean up and then get something to eat.”
Leyladin slid a leather pouch across the table. Cerryl’s eyebrows rose as he recognized it. He peered inside to check. The white-bronze razor glittered against the dark leather. “Is this a hint?”
“No. It is a strong suggestion.”
They both laughed.
CIV
Cerryl fingered his clean-shaven chin, then glanced across the front foyer, wondering why the Council was taking so long. Or was it just that it seemed long to him?
“I can’t believe this,” said Faltar, his eyes on the archway to the Council Chamber.
“You can’t believe it?” asked Lyasa.
A heavyset figure waddled through the archway and across the polished stone tiles of the foyer. “Well, you three,” said Myral, a wide smile on his round face, “are you ready?”
The three exchanged glances.
“We’re ready,” Cerryl finally answered.
“So am I. Just follow me, and do what Sterol says.” Myral turned back toward the archway. “It’s a good idea, anyway.” After a pause, he added, “That’s a joke.”
Cerryl and Lyasa followed Myral; Faltar followed them. All four walked through the archway and under the pillars that flanked the sides of the Council Chamber. Each circular pillar was gold-shot white granite, fluted, and apparently flawless. Red hangings swept from the top of one pillar to the next, in effect cloaking the capital of each. The base of each was a cube of a shimmering gold stone Cerryl did not recognize.
The floor of the chamber was comprised of polished white marble tiles that held golden swirls. An aisle led up the center of the chamber. On each side of the aisle were gold oak desks, each with a gold oak chair. Each chair had a red velvet cushion. At the eastern end of the chamber was a low dais, a mere cubit above the floor of the chamber. The dais was of the same gold-shot marble, and totally bare.
Sterol stood in the center of the dais. To the right of the High Wizard, and two steps back, were Jeslek and Kinowin, standing side by side. Cerryl caught a glimpse of Anya’s red hair somewhere among all the white robes and tunics in the seats to the left of the aisle that the three student mages walked down. Even in a crowd, she stood out-and still made him wary.
In the row of desks before Anya sat Fydel, beside a mage Cerryl did not know. The unknown mage was talking in a low voice. “. . don’t understand it. . took me years. . scrivener’s apprentice. .”
Cerryl smiled to himself.
“Bealtur was here before him. .”
“You want Bealtur at your elbow?” asked Fydel. “Cerryl’s solid.”
That surprised Cerryl, but he kept walking toward Sterol.
The High Wizard actually smiled as Myral stepped aside.
“High Wizard, I present the candidates for induction as full mages and members of the Guild.” Myral inclined his head, then took another step backward.
Sterol let the silence draw out for a moment, then nodded. “Cerryl, Lyasa, Faltar. . you are here because you have studied, because you have learned the basic skills of magery, and because you have proved you understand the importance of the Guild to the future of all Candar. .”
Cerryl wanted to nod at that. After seeing Fenard and Jellico, he definitely understood what Fairhaven and the Guild offered for the future of Candar.
“We hold a special trust for all mages, to bring a better life to those who follow the white way, to further peace and prosperity, and to ensure that all our talents are used for the greater good, both of those in Fairhaven, and those throughout Candar.” Sterol paused, surveying the three.
“Do you, of your own free will, promise to use your talents for the good of the Guild and for the good of Fairhaven, and of all Candar?”
“Yes,” answered Cerryl. What else could he do, being who he was?
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
“And do you faithfully promise to hold to the rules of the Guild, even when those rules may conflict with your personal and private desires?”
“Yes,” answered the three, nearly simultaneously.
“Do you promise that you will do your personal best to ensure that chaos is never raised against the helpless and always to benefit the greater good?”
“Yes.”
“And finally, do you promise that you will always stand by those in the Guild to ensure that mastery of the forces of chaos-and order-is limited to those who will use such abilities for good and not for personal gain and benefit?”
“Yes,” replied Cerryl. Yes!
“Therefore in the powers of chaos and in the sight of the Guild, you are each a full mage of the White Order of Fairhaven. .”
A shimmering touch of chaos brushed Cerryl’s sleeves. . and the red stripes were gone-as if they had never been.
“Welcome, Lyasa, Cerryl, and Faltar. .” Sterol offered a broad smile and looked across the assembled group. “Now that we have welcomed the new mages, our business is over, and all may greet them.”
Murmurs, and then conversation, broke out across the chamber.